"I'm very glad to see you, Gordon!" exclaimed Mr. Ross; "but what happy chance brought you here? Are you not residing somewhere in the West?" "Yes; in St. Louis; and it is not a happy chance, but a painful duty that has brought me to you to-night." He spoke hurriedly, as if to be done with an unpleasant task, and Mr. Ross's pulses throbbed at the sudden recollection that Larrabee also was a resident of St. Louis. He turned a quick, inquiring look upon his friend. "Out with it, man! I'm in no mood to wait, whether it be good news or ill." Gordon glanced toward the door. Mr. Ross stepped to it and turned the key; then coming back, seated himself close to his friend with the air of one who is ready for anything. "Phil, my old chum," said Gordon, clapping him affectionately on the shoulder, "I heard the other day in St. Louis, that Larrabee was about to marry a daughter of yours, and I took the first eastern bound train and traveled night and day to get here in time to put a stop to the thing. I hope I'm not too late." "What do you know of the man?" asked Mr. Ross steadily and looking Gordon full in the eye, but with a paling cheek. "Know of him? that he made all his money by gambling; that he is a murderer." The last word was spoken low and close to the listener's ear. Mr. Ross started back--horrified--deadly pale. "Gordon! do you know whereof you affirm?" he asked low and huskily. "I do; I had the account from one who was an eye-witness of the affair. He is dead now, and I do not suppose it would be possible to prove the thing in a court of justice; but nevertheless I assure you it is true. "It was thirty years ago, on a Mississippi steamer, running between St. Louis and New Orleans, that the deed was done. "Larrabee, then a professional black-leg, was aboard, plying his trade. My informant, a man whose veracity I could not doubt, was one of a group of bystanders, who saw him (Larrabee) fleece a young man out of several thousand dollars--all he had in the world--then, enraged by some taunting words from his victim, pull out a pistol and shoot him through the heart, just as they sat there on opposite sides of the gaming table; then with his revolver still in his hand, threatening with terrible oaths and curses, to shoot down any man who should attempt to stop him, he rushed on deck, jumped into the river, swam ashore and disappeared in the woods." "Horrible, horrible!" groaned Mr. Ross, hiding his face in his hands. "And this murderer, this fiend in human form, would have married my daughter!" he cried, starting up in strong excitement. "Why was he suffered to escape? Where is he now?" "The whole thing passed so quickly, my informant said, that every one seemed stunned, paralyzed with horror and fright till the scoundrel had made good his escape; beside there were several others of the same stamp on board--desperate fellows, probably belonging to the same gang--who were evidently ready to make common cause with the ruffian.